Wednesday's Children

From Wednesday's Children:

KRISTA STOOD MOTIONLESS, as did Downs. She watched a drop of water drip off his jaw and onto his light blue shirt. “Forgot to pack your Nazi costume, Bobby? It’s almost Halloween, y’know.”

“We don’t wear dress grays in the field. What are you doing here?”

She looked over his shoulder into a small office, where she could take shelter from the coming explosions, but Downs blocked the way. Her only escape route was back through the hangar doors, although he’d probably catch her if she tried to run. “Umm…New Detroit threw me out, and I was caught by your guys out in the desert.” Was I at ninety seconds or eighty? she thought. How long till the Party Poppers detonate?

“You’re lying. All our teams are supposed to be in California.”

“You didn’t know they sent a special mission after me?”

“If that’s the case, where are your guards?” he asked. “Procedure requires that each prisoner be accompanied by two men at all times.”

“When I heard you were here, I asked them if I could have a little time alone with you, so they went off and had a smoke. They’re right outside.”

Downs looked through the hangar door, where he heard faint voices. “All right. But if you want time together, we’ll certainly have that. I look forward to taking you back to the NTC and hooking you up to this delightful machine we have. I’ll ask you all sorts of questions, and your mind will crack open like a walnut for me.”

“That sounds like bravado, boyo. You’re totally fulla shit.”

He laughed. “I assure you I’m not. I’ll know all you know in a week, including the name of every Activist you’ve ever met. You’ll be a treasure trove of information, and hundreds of traitors will die because of you. They’ll enjoy exquisitely drawn-out deaths, all because you failed.”

She laughed. “You’re still a crappy liar.”

“Let’s find out.” He stepped toward her.

“Aren’t you the impatient one?” She stepped back, remembering that her last count had been ninety seconds, which meant she had seventy seconds left. Or maybe only sixty.

“I can’t wait to interrogate you. I especially want to know how you escaped that grange in Indiana. I’ve never figured out how you did that.”

“The grange? I just waited till just before the missiles hit and then jumped for safety.”

His eyes narrowed. “So you knew that the Hades missile can’t maneuver after its final target lock? Who told you that?”

“We’re trying to take down the government, bubba. The first thing we did was develop sources in the Watch Room.”

“That’s another piece of intelligence I can’t wait for, but I’ll get it all, Warner, every last bit, and then I’ll roll up this resistance from the bottom until I hook up your leader to the Mapper, and then I’ll –”

“Sure you want to know who he is, champ? Sure your fragile ego can handle the knowledge?”

He stopped, his eyebrows furrowed.

“He’s an Arkie, boyo.”

“Many people are Archangelists.”

“But he’s one of your Holy Molies, someone all of you trust and admire. He has the perfect cover, someone you’d never suspect to betray you.”

“Not one member of my faith would ally with your godless –”

“Oh, but one did, and he’s a doozy. He practically has a key to the Angel’s Rest Room. Really, I can’t wait to hop on your Mappie thingie and tell you all about it. I’d love to see you cry.”

“I won’t be the one shedding tears, Warner.”

“Hah! You’ll be bawlin like a newborn, Bobblehead.”

“That’s just bull.”

Krista laughed. “He was right – he said you didn’t have enough imagination to believe that he’d rebel. It really was the perfect cover.”

“Save your agitprop for the masses.” He took a step forward, a cruel smile coming to his lips. “I have enough imagination to figure you out. You’re just the movement’s propagandist, aren’t you? You work the media and the psy-ops end, but you’re no warrior. Look at you – injured, in pain, underfed and exhausted, without the stamina even to stand up straight. It figures you’d be the mouthpiece, given the size of your mouth.” He held his hand out and wiggled his fingers. “Enough. The hunt’s over, and so are your days of jumping for safety. Come with me.”

The answer came to her in a flash. She felt the last Party Popper in her hand, hot and alive under her touch, and a small smile played across her face that turned quickly into a frown – did she have twenty seconds until it detonated, or was it thirty? She’d lost count again.

“You look troubled,” Downs said. “Don’t be. You’ll have no more worries from now on. Your life will be simple in the hands of our doctors.”

“I’m troubled because I lost, but I’m a good loser. You’ve earned the prize. Do you want the vaccine now?”

“You have it?”

She pulled out the vial and wiggled it in her fingers, not to taunt him but because the bomb was melting off her fingerprints. Pain shot through her fingertips and a tear came to her eye. “Here it is, all the Recombin in the free world. It’s yours if you want it.”

“Hand it over, Rebel Commander,” he said. “Finally, I get the joke. You, a military leader. That’s hilarious.”

“Laughing my ass off, that I am.” She knelt and laid the bomb on the floor, shaking it gently to loosen it from her fingers. “Look at me, I’m so gosh-darn nervous. All right, here you are. Come and get it, boyo.”